


Dolls and Cats and Things That Human

by FireEye



Category: Aliens (1986)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bishop tries his hand at painting again.  Jones helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dolls and Cats and Things That Human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vanishinghitchhiker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanishinghitchhiker/gifts).



_You’ll never be an artist_ , his first command told him.

He didn’t mind that the woman didn’t bother to try and spare his feelings. He knew she was right. His perception was all wrong for it. His lines were too straight, circles were too symmetrical, curves were too precise. There was no ingenuity. No _human_ imperfection.

What made him a failure as an artist cut him above grade for engineering.

Bishop had accessed the memory seven-hundred and sixty-four times since the event had occurred. Only three of those times had been in the last two weeks.

The third time, the replay was interrupted when Jones leapt up on the workbench, pussyfooting around the pieces of plastic and tins of hobbyist’s paint to butt his forehead against Bishop’s own. Bishop put the cat back down on the floor, but Jones shared Ripley’s tenacity.

“ _No_ ,” he told the cat at last. He didn’t often understand the cat. He couldn’t be certain the cat understood him.

The cat didn’t listen.

A compromise was eventually struck, with Jones rumbling on his lap as Bishop worked. Bishop didn’t mind. The cat was no longer directly in his way.

Two weeks prior, he had been standing in a toyshop, carrier in hand as he retrieved the feline from the kennel. Were he human, he might have called it a whim.

Four hours ago, when he went to retrieve the requisite parts, the conversation with the proprietor about the newest models led Bishop to silently estimate the potential span of time before children’s dolls with full-range personality implants. And what would happen to them when those children grew up.

It should have unnerved him.

Putting together the replacement body wasn’t so difficult as attempting to reconstruct the head itself. The hair had melted in places where it had been scorched. He trimmed the excess and colored the rest black. One of the eyes was missing. He replaced both. Some of the finish had come clean when he was cleaning it, he painted over it, restoring it as best he could.

Were the imperfections important?

When he had finished, was it the same doll?

Newt seemed to think so. After all, Bishop had been patched up, why not Casey?

“She’s a survivor, too.”

It read better in his complex processor. But the girl seemed happy enough, even if Ripley was giving him _that_ look.

Sometimes, she didn’t care for him. Other times, she did care for him. Somehow, these were not conflicting traits, and often overlapped.

“Thanks,” she said. Estimated genuine.

“Don’t mention it.”

Jones landed on his shoulders. Bishop still didn’t understand the cat.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. I hope at the very least it is coherent, because Bishop!voice is apparently _hard_. XD


End file.
